Everyone's Safe
by Sarah1281
Summary: AU ending to "Human Nature"/"Family of Blood." What if the Family had never found Martha and the Doctor? Could John Smith have ever had the life he saw in the watch? Even if he could, everything must end eventually. At least he knows everyone's safe.


Everyone's Safe

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who.

Joan Smith had had a good life, that much was undeniable. Her first husband, Oliver Redfern, had been a kind and caring man who had loved her every day of his life. He had been brave and patriotic and died in the service to his country only a few years after their marriage.

It wasn't easy being a widow back then and she had been widowed for fourteen years. She had been so young when she lost her husband and couldn't imagine spending the rest of her life alone, for all that she had had it beaten into her head from all sides that widows were just supposed to stop being young, to stop being beautiful, to stop being…well, everything.

Joan had wanted more than that but after thirteen years she hadn't really believed it was possible. She had wanted children, as well, but working in a school full of boys eased that pang a little. No life was perfect and she had no right to complain when there were others far worse off than she was, other _widows_ who hadn't been able to find the means to support themselves.

That was before John and Martha had arrived. John had been so very vague at first – and still was at times – while Martha's eyes shone with barely suppressed fear and resentment. Maybe the others hadn't noticed (and Martha was just a servant so why would they have cared if they had?) but Joan was a nurse and so was trained to look for these things. She had probably had a bad experience previously and so Joan was determined to keep an eye on her and help her fit in…which would have been a lot easier if Martha hadn't taken every attempt she made to try to help her as an affront.

Martha had been the one Joan had been intentionally watching but little by little she found her eyes straying towards the new history teacher. In many ways he seemed like just another product of his generation (it still hurt to think about him blithely allowing poor Tim Latimer to be beaten by his schoolfellows for hesitating over the senseless slaughter they were learning how to commit under John's instruction) but when she looked a little deeper…He didn't care that she was a widow and he hated violence almost as much as she did. He had a burning desire to make the world a better place – one cricket ball at a time – even if he didn't always have the confidence to try.

His lack of confidence had almost ended their romance before it had began as he never seemed to manage to make his intentions known properly and back in 1913 there was really only so much that Joan herself could do. A part of her had wondered if she was being too forward with all her talk of how much she would love to go to the dance in the village _if only someone would ask her_. John seemed to get the picture but still wasn't asking so Joan began to wonder if she'd misread the situation when a cricket ball miracle gave him the confidence to invite her and that was that.

The dance was the loveliest evening she had had in quite some time and things progressed as one might expect after that. They got married within a year and had three beautiful children. The first John had been insistent on naming Rose after the girl in his dreams who Joan now understood to be a friend of his who he had lost. She suspected that he had loved her but she would never ask. Though John had been fortunate enough to escape conscription in the first Great War, their little William had not been so lucky come the second Great War. He had survived and had no lasting physical injuries, however, which was enough. Their baby, Lillian, had been named after her mother. The children were all happy, productive members of society with families of their own by now.

Everything was perfect.

Almost.

There was a secret that Joan had been keeping for over forty years now. A secret that weighed down on her so heavily that at times she thought that she would burst but that she had never told a soul because once she did there was no going back. The wonderful life she shared with her human husband would be shattered. And yet…it had to be done at some point and she knew that she was running out of time.

Forty-three years ago, Martha Jones had left Farringham's School for Boys after working as a maid for three months. Martha had told everybody, including John, that her sister had invited her to move in with her and her husband to take care of the children. She had told Joan quite a different story.

_Joan listened patiently while Martha told her tale. It all sounded so extraordinary and she would be inclined not to believe it if she weren't currently sitting in a blue box that was far bigger on the inside than it appeared on the outside. When she was certain that Martha had finished, she tried to decide what question she wanted to ask first. _

"_But…if John were your Doctor and he doesn't remember then how can he have told you that it was alright to leave without him?" Joan had asked. _

"_I told you, the TARDIS can travel in time. We were only supposed to be here for three months until the Family died. I was on my way to open the watch and get the Doctor back when the TARDIS appeared in front of me and the Doctor told me to give you the chance to have a life with John Smith," Martha explained. "If you say yes then he's taking me with him now and if you say no then I'll go bring the Doctor back now."_

"_If this Doctor of yours is from the future then wouldn't he know what I would decide to do? Does he not remember being John Smith?" The thought was horrifying. But then, so was the thought that the man that she had grown to love and hoped to spend the rest of her days with was only a disguise in the eyes of an alien that could travel through time. _

_Martha shrugged. "He seems to. I think he wants to give you the opportunity to choose instead of just forcing this on you even if he already knows what you'll choose. __If__ he already knows what you'll choose. Time travel's a little confusing so right now you might make a different choice than you did before and then maybe the Doctor will remember a different outcome. Or both."_

_That did sound confusing and not really relevant to the choice before her. "Why even tell me at all? If I'm to have this choice at all then you must know that I fully intended to spend the rest of my life with him. Why do I need to know that one day he'll become an alien again if he's not now and has no idea?"_

_Martha's dark eyes turned solemn. "Because if you do decide to stay with him then you'll need to promise to do something first. Maybe the most important thing you'll ever do."_

_Joan couldn't possibly imagine what was so important that Martha or her Doctor would need her to do it for them. "What?"_

"_At the end, when John Smith is dying…open the watch. Don't let him die or he'll stay dead," Martha warned. "I know you'll want to wait as long as you can but you'll need to be careful. If he dies a human then opening the watch won't do anything and he'll stay dead." _

"_If I open the watch and the Doctor returns then the John I know will be dead anyway," Joan realized. _

"_Which is why you should only do this when he's already dying," Martha told her. "I have to admit, I've never been able to see John Smith as anything but an in-depth alias for the Doctor."_

_Joan felt her anger flare up. "John Smith is _**so** _much more than that."_

"_That's what the Doctor said," Martha said quickly, trying to pacify her. "That's why he's willing to do this. John Smith may have never had a real childhood or, well, anything before he came here but he can have the rest of his life. All he asks is that once John Smith's time is up that you let him have his time back." _

_Joan shook her head. "If there really are two of him right now then where is the non-human one?"_

"_You don't believe me," Martha deduced. _

"_You didn't answer my question," Joan countered. _

_Martha sighed. "The Doctor thought it would be easier for you both if you didn't see him. Especially for you because then it would make all of this much more real to you and maybe cause problems with your relationship."_

"_Wouldn't it be better for this to be real to me?" Joan inquired. "That way I'll be sure to do as you ask?"_

"_It doesn't really matter if you believe or not," Martha announced. "Although if you look around you then I think you'll see some compelling reasons to do so. There's a perception filter on John Smith's watch. He'll never open it. When he's dying, we just need you to open the watch. If I'm right then it will bring the Doctor back. If I'm not then you'll just have opened a watch and no harm done. It's not like you're being asked anything difficult." _

"_I would lose whatever time John and I had left," Joan disagreed. _

"_True. And yet you'd also be gaining __**years**__ longer than the three months you were supposed to have and ensuring that he doesn't die completely," Martha pointed out. "So will you do it?"_

"_How do you know that I would keep my word?" Joan asked. "I could promise to open the watch and then never do so."_

"_The Doctor trusts you," Martha said simply. "And I trust him. So…what's it going to be?"_

Joan had promised. Of course she had. She loved John and she'd be signing his death warrant otherwise. And Martha's Doctor was right about her – unsurprising if he had John's memories – because she would never lie about something so important for so petty a reason as not wanting to let go.

She had avoided thinking about it, of course. She loved John and nothing would change that but every time she thought about the alien he once was and would one day be again and how he was so graciously _allowing_ her to stay with him…how small they must be to the likes of him. She had never met the Doctor but from the way Martha had put it (Martha who had admittedly never seen John as a person in his own right), the Doctor was allowing John to live for her sake and not for his own. That the Doctor didn't even consider John worthy of living his own life could make her very angry if she chose to dwell on it so she didn't.

This day had seemed so far away back then, those forty-three years ago. She had thought she loved John then – and she did – but what she felt for him then was _nothing_ to what she felt now that they had spent most of their lives together. Technically, he had spent every day of his with her.

John was dying. She was older and yet he was going to be the first to go.

Remembering her promise to Martha it was just as well because if he hadn't been first then she would have had to decide between ending his life early or forcing this secret upon one of the children and entrusting them to do what had to be done.

John was lying peacefully on the bed they'd shared for years. He was clutching at her hand like he might never let go but otherwise seemed content. "They're all safe. The children, the grandchildren…everyone's safe."

Of course that would be his first thought. John always put others before himself, especially those that he loved. Joan was all too eager to be able to reassure him about this, at least. "Everyone's safe. They all send their love, John."

They were all waiting downstairs but they had already said their goodbyes and it didn't look like John would get a chance to see them again.

John smiled at her then like all was right in the world and he wasn't about to leave her behind forever. Joan was a religious woman but she had no idea if she'd ever get to see John again in heaven. A Time Lord could live 'forever barring accidents' she had heard and though this Doctor seemed to have a lot of those he would still be around far longer than she would. And even once he died, would that human part of him that loved her and she loved in turn have a separate soul?

"Well then…" John said quietly. It was difficult to hear him. "It is time. Thank you." His eyes were fluttering closed. There wasn't much time left.

Joan could feel the tears welling up in her eyes but she was determined not to cry just yet. She didn't want to hurt John by showing him how much this was killing her. She didn't think the Doctor had the right to see her pain. She knew that if she started crying now she might never stop and she only had so much time to keep her promise.

"John," she said slowly, her voice surprisingly steady. "I want you to know that I love you more than I ever thought possible and these forty-some years with you have been the happiest I've ever had. You've made me the luckiest woman in the world and nothing will ever change that."

"You know, I was just about to say the same to you," John murmured. "Except I would have said man instead of woman, of course."

"We're well-matched," Joan said with a watery smile.

"You were right all those years ago," John remarked. "Nurses make excellent wives. I'm sorry, my love. I'm so sorry. I've been trying to hold on but I don't think that I can anymore."

"It's alright," Joan was quick to assure him. It wasn't his fault. Even had he been the completely human man that he thought he was with over thirty real years under his belt before he had met her, he couldn't help it when his body broke down. She'd been a nurse long enough to understand that far too well. "Do you remember…"

She couldn't do it. She had to. But he had no idea and there wasn't time to explain it to him. She had always meant to but it had never seemed like the right time and she knew the knowledge would only distress him. And now, on his deathbed, who was she to give him an identity crisis and make him doubt that heaven would be waiting for him?

"Do I remember what?" John prompted. Dear, sweet John didn't deserve this. She'd made a promise, though, and that promise had been all that had allowed John to have the time that he had had.

"Do you remember that old pocket watch you used to have?" Joan asked softly.

John thought back. "I…yes, now that you mention it, I do. I gave it to you as a wedding present, didn't I?"

Joan pulled it out of her pocket. She'd been carrying it everywhere she went for weeks now. "I think it's time to finally open the watch, John."

"I've always wondered what was inside of it," John said wearily. "It never made much sense to have a pocket watch you never opened. But somehow… I never did. Maybe it is time. Give it to me."

Unwittingly, he was taking the responsibility out of her hands. Joan hated herself for being relieved, for shakily handing the watch over. She wouldn't be killing him. She would just be giving him the means to unwittingly kill himself. He didn't have much time left, she knew. Or at least she thought she knew. She had seen a lot of death but sometimes people who looked like they were going to recover ended up dying anyway and sometimes those who looked like their time had come – like John – hung on for weeks more.

But John would never get the chance to die naturally or to hang on. John was going to die any moment now and it was her doing.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, knowing that he wouldn't understand but feeling compelled to say it anyway. He would understand soon but then he wouldn't be him anymore, would he?

John look straight at her. "I love you." He glanced back down at the watch. "Allons-y."

He opened it.

Joan hadn't quite known what to expect once the watch was finally open. She half-expected that nothing would, that all of this would have been for nothing. She was wrong.

Immediately a brilliant golden light that was almost painful to look at flowed out of the watch and into her husband's face. Slowly, the ravages of time were repaired. It took maybe a minute for the light to die down and then she could clearly see John still lying there – very much alive – looking as young and as handsome as the day she had met him.

Except…it wasn't John at all anymore, was it?

Joan reached into her pocket and pulled out a letter that had once been crisply folded but now was showing its age as well. Martha had told her to give this paper to the Doctor when he came back. Joan hadn't read it but she imagined that the letter contained some sort of instructions for coming to get her and maybe information on that 'family' they had come here to hide from. They could have hidden anywhere and it was only a whim (and not even a whim of Martha's or the Doctor's but of the blue box if Martha could be believed. Martha who was still every day as young as the day they had met despite being perfectly human) that John had come into her life at all. Joan thought that that would probably bother her if she weren't so incredibly grateful.

Wordlessly, Joh-no, _the Doctor_ took the letter. He opened it and scanned the contents. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Listen, Joan. I-"

"Don't," Joan cut him off. "Just don't."

The Doctor looked a little hurt at that. If he still remembered being John then of course it would hurt but Joan didn't care. She couldn't deal with his consolation or his condensation or anything else from him right now. Her husband had died to bring him back and she was a widow without a body to bury. What was she going to tell the children? Or the grandchildren?

The Doctor nodded. "Right then. I should go."

"I'll distract them while you can exit out the back," Joan instructed. "Be careful, it squeaks when it opens."

The Doctor managed a sad smile. "I know. I was always meaning to get that fixed but, well…"

Joan had nothing to say to that. He wasn't her husband, could _never_ be her husband and it would be best for the both of them if he left as soon as possible and before anyone else could see him. Her family already wouldn't understand and seeing a stranger walking around looking like dad or grandpa wouldn't make things any better. She wanted nothing more than to be alone right now but they deserved to know what had happened…or at least part of what had happened.

She took a deep breath and headed for the stairs reminding herself that she was Joan Smith and that she had had a good life. She just had to hold onto that and to whatever time was left and to try to make John proud.

Review Please!


End file.
